But that would be a mistake. We can thank Jim Beasley for the fact that our cars are as safe today as they have ever been, newspapers think twice before publishing something that destroys a reputation, hospitals have implemented protocols that save people from getting the wrong medicine, and factories use machines that are less likely to injure working people.
People who think we would be better off without trial lawyers have simply been fortunate to never need one.
And somewhere, somebody should now be chiseling: “Here lies James E. Beasley, Trial Lawyer.”
AFTERWORD
Pennsylvania lawyers have a continuing legal education (CLE) requirement that commands us to spend 12 hours every year listening to lectures about ethics and the conduct of the legal practice. Ever since Jim’s passing, I’d had an idea to present a CLE program focused on him. In March 2015, working together, David Arena and Lisa Muench at the Pennsylvania Bar Institute and I staged a three-hour seminar entitled “Lessons Learned from the Legendary James Beasley, Sr.” I moderated the discussion in front of a roomful of lawyers in Philadelphia that was simulcast to attorneys all over Pennsylvania. The participants included the Honorable Sandra Mazer Moss from the Philadelphia Court of Common Pleas, in front of whom Jim had often appeared; James E. Beasley Jr., who now runs the Beasley firm; Shanin Specter and Tom Kline, both of whom were mentored by Jim before creating one of the most successful trial practices in the nation; and Peter Hoffman, a defense attorney against whom Jim had tried many cases. The legendary Richard Sprague, Jim’s close friend and former legal client, sat in the audience.
As is the custom for such programs, the speakers prepared written materials for the attendees. My contribution was a lengthy memo that I nevertheless described as a thoroughly INcomplete list of things I’d learned in my 10-year association with Jim. Most were tips for lawyers, such as the Beasley style of writing a letter (“You know that I know that you know . . .”), the way Jim liked to interview prospective clients, how he’d get them to summarize their claims in writing, his aggressive style of taking pretrial discovery, how he’d interview prospective jurors during voir dire, his special skill of persuasion, and his work ethic.
But under the heading of “Friendship,” I also offered this:
Outside the court room, Jim could be prickly. He maintained a very small social circle, but for those allowed to enter he was a good friend and better dinner companion. He enjoyed a glass of wine. Loved to tell stories. Relished a dinner debate. When our wives joined us, he would view my spouse’s presence as an opportunity to sound her out on potential cases. Christmas seemed to matter to him—he never missed that gift exchange. I recall when my kids were young, we surprised him at his remote Villanova home on Halloween, and sans candy, he responded by going into his pocket for a $20 bill. He also acknowledged the birth of each of our children with a note. And I will always remember him making an unsolicited call to the delivery room at Lankenau Hospital during the birth of our first son—making it clear to the nursing station that “Jim Beasley was calling to make sure everything is all right.”
I was touched, but also maybe a little concerned the OB would drop my son upon hearing who had inquired!
DREAMING OF A
WHITE (HOUSE) CHRISTMAS
Philadelphia Daily News, Thursday, December 23, 2004
ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU about a memorable night at the White House last week.
One which included my telling the president that he’d been mentioned in a letter sent to Santa by one of my kids. The occasion was a White House Christmas party attended by my wife and me. What a thrill.
We have four children—three boys aged 4, 6, and 8 and a teenage daughter (who’s 16 going on 30). Our 8-year-old son met the president at a campaign rally in Yardley just days before the recent election. I emceed the event, and when it was over, Senator Rick Santorum introduced me to the president. My son was at my side. I had my digital camera, and so when the president greeted my namesake, I took a photo of them, albeit not at the best angle. Chalk that up to suddenly unsteady hands.
No wonder my son voted for W in his school’s mock election. And he hasn’t stopped talking about his chance encounter. Even when writing to Santa, he told Old Saint Nick that he “means as much to me as the President of the United States.”
I thought the president would get a kick out of the note to Santa. My chance came soon after my wife and I entered the East Wing and joined the receiving line at the Christmas party.
After a “Welcome to the White House” greeting from a uniformed staffer, we’d walked past a photo display of the Reagans at Christmas, beyond the first of many beautifully decorated Christmas trees, and through a room with first lady portraits.
Standing in the receiving line, I had my son’s letter to Santa in my pocket, along with the photograph I’d taken of him with the president. Now my dilemma.
The event was structured with military precision: We would be formally announced as we greeted the president. We’d shake hands and pose for a picture. In other words, keep moving.
“Michael and Lavinia Smerconish,” someone called out.
There we stood shaking hands while a photographer clicked.
“Our son wrote to Santa Claus to say he respects him as much as he respects you,” I said.
He asked me my son’s age. I took it as an opening.
“You met him during the campaign,” I said, and pulled out the letter and picture to show him.
My eyes were fixed on the president, who seemed touched to hear the report. My wife told me later that I gave the Secret Service a stir when I reached for the letter to Santa.
The president asked if he could sign the picture to my son. I told him it wasn’t necessary. He ignored me, asked his name, and penned a greeting.
We were then free to explore 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. The entire first floor was open without restriction. Gone were the stanchions that limit the public tour. We were able to navigate the rooms, sit in the furniture, and get a close look at the breathtaking art collection. The trees were all white, and lit with candlelight bulbs. (The president has yet to join my colored-light brigade.)
This was clearly a red-state party. Most people posing for their own photos wanted them taken under the Ronald Reagan portrait, or near the crèche in the East Room. (There was no waiting line at Hillary’s portrait.)
The menu was a mixture of some politically correct low-carb stuff: western-style wraps, some tame sushi, and a dish or two of pasta. Red and white wine flowed, nothing French. The egg nog tasted good—and spiked.
Karl Rove was circulating. But the cloak-room staff provided more interesting conversation. When retrieving my wife’s coat, I said I felt sorry for the president having to pose for pictures all night.
One fellow told me that the Reagans had the party down to a science. “When they wanted you to leave, the band would strike up ‘Hit the Road Jack’ and people did.”
AFTERWORD
My wife and I did a few of the White House Christmas parties with the Bushes and were together for one with the Obamas their first year in the White House. Then she said she’d had enough: “Take the kids.” So I did. In subsequent years, I took each of our four children, and then my mother, and finally, my brother. The only close family member I did not get to take was my dad; we had planned to go in the final year of the Obama administration, but he was unable to travel and so neither of us attended. Good thing I was able share the experience with so many, because I am not anticipating any similar invitations from President Trump!
COS CASE: IT’S KOBE
ALL OVER AGAIN
Philadelphia Daily News, Thursday, February 17, 2005
I TOLD YOU SO.
With Kobe, I mean. From the start of that case, I said it didn’t pass the smell test.
All I needed to hear was that the alleged victim showed up for a rape test the next day with semen that didn’t belong to Kobe on her shorts. Huh?
And now I’m ready to
say the same thing about “the Cos.” This one doesn’t wash, either. It defies logic that a woman wakes up feeling that she’s been drugged and violated, but doesn’t call the police. And then, one year later (according to her father), only after receiving training on the ethical boundaries of massage therapy, she realized that she should call the police? That, plus the fact that the Philadelphia police sexual assault report says, “According to the Canadian [police] interview, her recollection is poor,” tells me any criminal case is a loser.
I know, this makes me an insensitive male. But there will be other insensitive males on the jury, and they’ll never buy it.
And on the gender bias that seems to dictate perception of these cases: I’m tired of the argument that those of us who are circumspect about an alleged sexual-assault claim do a disservice to future victims. I say it’s actually the initiators of weak claims who do future claimants a disservice.
Remember: If claimants in sexual-assault cases never lied, we’d never see acquittals! But we do.
Bottom line: This is a criminal case that won’t be filed. And if it’s filed, it’ll never succeed. On the civil side of things, maybe she files, and he pays her to go away.
Bruce Castor, the Montgomery County DA, is perfect for the Cosby case. He’s tough. And a straight arrow. He won’t be intimidated by the possibility of a celebrity defendant, nor will he cower in the face of those who want the man charged. If you need a reference on his work, just seek out Craig Rabinowitz, Caleb Farley, or Guy Sileo.
But Castor is now the subject of criticism for comments he made about the case, some of them on my radio show. I’ve heard his words twisted by people who claim that Castor tipped his hand. I checked the tape. He did nothing of the kind. Here is what he did say:
You will find no place that I said the case is weak or anything of that nature. What I said was that, under Pennsylvania law, delay in reporting inures to the benefit of the defendant unless there is some good reason why the victim waits to come forward.
There is a presumption in the law that a “prompt complaint” goes to the credibility of the person complaining. The reverse is also true. Juries tend to believe that a delay in reporting means that the victim did not think that what happened was so bad, and that some intervening event made her decide she wanted to go ahead and complain. Where you see juries sympathetic to delay is the type of case where you have a child complaining.
Was he tipping his hand? Was he insensitive to the alleged victim? Hardly. He was simply explaining the legal realities of the review he is duty-bound to apply.
Consider this. After a Pennsylvania jury in a case of alleged sexual assault hears all the evidence, here is one of the instructions read to them by the judge:
The evidence of delay in making a complaint does not necessarily make her testimony unreliable, but may remove from it the assurance of reliability accompanying the prompt complaint or outcry which the victim of a crime such as this would ordinarily be expected to make. Therefore, the delay in making a complaint should be considered in evaluating her testimony and in deciding whether the act occurred with or without her consent.
That’s what Castor was talking about. He was explaining that this is something he must consider when deciding whether to charge Cosby in a case that would appear to be a he said/she said.
But some people wear blinders on this topic. They think that if the conduct involves sex, the credibility of an alleged victim should be off limits. Which is ridiculous if all you have to go on is her word.
This same logic applies to the latest voice in the case, the lawyer from California who now claims that 30 years ago, the Cos assaulted her, too.
Where has she been? In part, defending herself against disciplinary charges in front of the California bar. Are we supposed to ignore those revelations when all we have to go on is her word? I think not.
Here is one final way of looking at it. Bill Cosby is presumed to be innocent. This is a case where she claims he did something, and he claims he didn’t.
One of them is lying. If he is presumed to be innocent, it means she is presumed to be lying, until shown otherwise. She has to move the needle. And based solely on that which has been printed about the case to date, I doubt she can do it.
AFTERWORD
Yikes. In my defense, I wrote this column long before 50 or so women came forward and told similar stories about Cosby. Nevertheless, I did later write about the way Cosby was treated by the judicial system, specifically how, despite a confidentiality agreement in a long-settled civil suit, a federal judge allowed the release of portions of his sworn deposition testimony, truly “the” decision that opened the floodgates for those many accusers to come forward. I still think that decision was wrong. As I wrote for the Sunday Inquirer in July 2015:
That Bill Cosby will be forever known as a serial abuser of women wasn’t determined by the findings of a jury. It didn’t come down to evidence such as forensics, DNA, or even a blue dress. Instead his fate was sealed in the court of public opinion by an adjudication of his hypocrisy. Beyond the legalese, that was the true predicate on which Judge Eduardo C. Robreno based his decision to unseal documents related to a civil suit filed against Cosby 10 years ago.
I was referring to the fact that in his ruling to release portions of Cosby’s testimony from the civil case, the judge reasoned that Cosby had “thrust himself into the vortex of these public issues” and had therefore “voluntarily narrowed the zone of privacy that he is entitled to claim.” One of the ways Cosby had done so, according to the judge’s footnotes, was by giving a speech about personal responsibility in the black community on the 50th anniversary of Brown v. Board of Education. In other words, had Cosby stayed out of the public policy arena, the deposition excerpts might have remained sealed. But because he was a public moralizer, he opened the door to be refuted by discovery motions and their supporting documents from 10 years earlier. I didn’t buy the logic then and I still don’t.
My willingness to offer that nuanced legal defense of Cosby in his prosecution surely played a role in what happened just before the start of his criminal trial. In May 2017, my iPhone rang on a Friday afternoon while I was preparing for the following day’s CNN program. On the line were Andrew Wyatt, a public relations professional, and his client—Bill Cosby. They wanted to offer me audio for use on my radio program that consisted of two short statements of support from Cosby’s daughters, Erinn and Ensa, and a lengthy interview that Erinn recorded with her father. Would I like to play some of the sound on my radio show? they asked. “Maybe” was my reply. I wasn’t about to commit to just playing sound that I hadn’t heard and suspected was biased in support of Cosby. But what did interest me, I said, was to interview Bill Cosby himself. To my surprise, Wyatt and Cosby told me that was possible. The following Monday, at noon, I taped a 30-minute interview with Cosby that aired the following day (May 16) uncut and uninterrupted by commercials on my SiriusXM radio show. I prepared for the interview as I would a deposition, and with the knowledge that merely speaking with him would earn me scorn. (It did.) My intention was to be fair but direct, courteous but not a lackey. And mostly, to let him speak.
The biggest revelation was Cosby’s telling me he had no intention of taking the stand in his own defense. (“No, I do not.”) While I’d seen plenty of news footage showing Cosby slowly entering the courthouse to face charges for aggravated indecent assault, the man I spoke with, possessing an unmistakable hearty laugh, was not mentally infirm. He told me that he regarded himself as “unsighted,” but his 79-year-old mind was sharp. And though his answers were often meandering, he nevertheless made his points. He dismissed my question about whether he was seeking to influence jurors (“You can’t aim at jurors”) but kept his eye on his goal (“Well, things were rescinded, and I’d like to get those things back”). He was partially accepting of his daughter Ensa’s opinion that there is racism at play (“Could be, could be. I can’t say anything, but there are certain things that I look at a
nd I apply to the situation. There are so many tentacles, so many different—‘nefarious’ is a great word—and I just truly believe that some of it may very well be that”) and said he’d been subjected to media bias (“I also feel that there are many filmed things and writing as well that people can take what you say and insert it and it will mean something altogether different”). He presented himself as a victim of a gang-up by accusers (“I think that the numbers came because the numbers prior to the numbers didn’t work”) not only intent on denying him the reputation he has earned but also willing to punish those still willing to pay to watch him perform (“But I will ask this question, If no matter what happens, if a man is then free to go where he wants to go, free within the law to do what he wants to do, and he offers himself in concert for people to buy tickets, why would people threaten the hall, threaten the people who booked the show, when in fact the people who are coming are those who are buying tickets?”).
The conversation got huge play. Patrick Reilly, the head of corporate communications for SiriusXM, distributed an internal e-mail calling the pickup of the interview “massive.” I’ll say. He reported that in the ensuing 48 hours, the audience for the national television segments discussing the interview totaled nearly 20 million viewers; in addition, the interview played on local news outlets in more than a hundred cities across the country. There were many headlines generated by the interview. As I explained in a subsequent Sunday Inquirer column:
Many outlets, like the Inquirer and Washington Post, highlighted that Cosby revealed he would not testify on his own behalf. Several, including the Huffington Post, noted that he regarded the volume of accusers as “piling on.” Others, like People magazine, reported that he said he “never” lost the support of his wife. All of that is true. But to me, who conducted the interview, they miss the bigger takeaway from the discussion. Considered in total, the half-hour conversation was a roadmap of Cosby’s defense.
Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right Page 10